


Purple Prose

by erebones



Series: secrets to a good life [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Condoms, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, felix is a seductive little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones/pseuds/erebones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix seduces Carver first thing in the morning while wearing a grape-flavored condom. These things are not mutually exclusive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Prose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of porny silliness to take a break from Secrets. It can be read as part of that 'verse or as a standalone.

“Hello there, you.”

Carver turns away from the slow drip of the coffee maker and feels his breath stop in his chest. Felix is leaning against the brick partition to his bedroom, dressed in a half-buttoned shirt of Carver’s and nothing else. His legs go on for miles, sleek and dusted with dark hair, and more of the same peeks out from the strategic gape of the shirt collar, framing one brown nipple perfectly. The sleeves are unrolled and a little too long—they hang so low that only his fingertips poke out, strangely small and delicate against the brick red flannel. Carver swallows hard.

“Hi,” he says lamely, as Felix saunters forward. With every sway of his hips, the shirt flicks open at the bottom to show off the pendulous weight of his erection, fully hard and sheathed in a translucent purple condom. Then Felix stands before him, bare toes nudging Carver’s sock feet, and he nestles his way into Carver’s space with the precision of well-cut puzzle piece.

“Hi.” Felix is laughing at him with his eyes, but his hands are sliding up under Carver’s shirt, warm and soft, and he finds he doesn’t mind all that much. He slumps down against the counter a little bit so their noses brush. Felix edges closer and kisses him sweetly, tasting of toothpaste and himself.

“C’mere,” he says, and Carver comes, pulled forward like a fish on a line as Felix walks backwards to the futon. Outside, rain is lashing against the window and passing cars throw spray up from the road, but here Felix sprawls decadently on the well-worn cushions and as Carver kneels between his spread thighs, he feels warm, and safe, and home. Felix draws him in with a hand to the back of his neck and Carver noses apart the plackets of his borrowed shirt, lipping at the tender skin of his hip and belly. His erection is a slim purple warmth nudging his chin as Carver curls his tongue into the shallow dip of his navel.

Felix once betrayed his self-consciousness over the size of his cock, but Carver loves it. It’s not pornstar-sized, maybe, but it’s not small either, and he doesn’t have to force his throat to cooperate when he swallows him down, as he’s doing now. The head nudges perfectly just past his esophagus, the shaft weighty on his tongue, and Felix is making little sighs and cooing noises that are driving Carver mad. _This is new_ , he thinks, as Felix gives a vulnerable, high-pitched gasp and bucks gingerly into his mouth, tasting of latex and grape jelly—something he’ll have to tease him about later, but a suspicion is forming in his sleep-addled mind, and it only intensifies when Felix pushes him away with gentle hands and lifts his hips invitingly with a pouting mewl.

“Carv,” he breathes, and moves one of Carver’s hands back behind his balls where he’s already slick and loose. Carver’s brain short-circuits for a moment or two.

“You’re killing me here, Fee.”

Felix smirks, his face full of delighted mischief for a moment before it’s replaced with soft, vulnerable need. _Fuck,_ but he knows just how to drive Carver crazy. “Please, baby,” he whispers, wriggling a bit so that Carver’s fingers slide along his cleft without resistance. “Please fuck me.”

Jesus. Carver digs his hands into Felix’s hips and hauls him forward and around so that he’s the one sat on the futon and Felix is spread across his lap like a feast. His lips are swollen and gleaming from being bitten, and a terrific flush has turned his dark skin ruddy. He wriggles shamelessly, and Carver’s tongue feels numb in his mouth, his fingers thick and clumsy as they curl around Felix’s sinuous hips.

“Mmm,” Felix hums, and he nips delicately at Carver’s ear. “You gonna make me do all the work myself?”

Carver grips him harder and burns with want. “You know what to do, baby. Sit on my cock.”

Felix’s eyes grow heavy-lidded, and a delicious smirk curls his mouth as he reaches back and finds Carver’s cock through the slit in his boxers, the tip already leaking freely. Face taut with concentration, he holds Carver steady and angles himself back, toying with the open stretch of his hole—the tip slips in slow, then out again, a gut-clenching tease. Then, finally, he takes the head inside all the way. Felix pauses there and works his internal muscles with a blissful look on his face, and when Carver wraps his hand around his cock and works the foreskin back and forth slowly through the condom, Felix gives a small cry and goes still, shuddering.

“Close?” Carver murmurs, fascinated at the play of expressions over his boyfriend’s face. Felix nods slightly, teeth sunk deeply into his lower lip.

“I was… in the shower,” he gasps. “But then I heard you in the kitchen and I decided I _really_ wanted you inside me.”

Carver groans and tips his hips up, just a little, just to feel the slight give as Felix’s body opens up for him a little more. He tugs roughly at the buttons of the shirt and pushes it back from his shoulders, not all the way, but just enough to tangle Felix’s arms against his sides and bare the inked expanse of his chest. He watches his own pale, freckled hands slide up Felix’s ribs and cup his pectorals, thumbs blunt and square against the brown nipples. Felix hisses and his hips jerk, and his body gives another inch or two.

“How long did you spend getting ready for me?”

“Ages,” Felix groans, head tipped back and spine arched to push further into Carver’s hands. “Oh god… Carver, _please_ …”

“Easy, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He pinches both nipples, tugging lightly, and Felix gasps out a half-garbled affirmative. “Yeah, that’s it. Tell me how beautiful you are.”

“ _Carv_ —”

“You want my cock? You want me to fuck you, baby?”

Felix’s eyes are impossibly black, wild with need. He grips Carver by the hair and kisses him roughly, desperately, tongue invading Carver’s mouth and immediately ceding control as Carver takes the reins. He’s incredible—pliant, submissive, slipping so easily into the role of softness and delicacy that Carver has to strain to see the lines between it and the normal, everyday Felix. He reaches between them with his free hand and teases his perineum, rubbing gently at his stretched hole as he pulls out and coaxes him down onto his back. His legs part instantly for Carver’s bulk, knees angled toward his chest and his flushed throat framed by the brick red flannel still hanging off him by the elbows. Carver yanks his own shirt over his head so fast he hears a seam pop. He’s a little gentler with his boxers, kicking them off to the side before bending down with a hand to Felix’s chest to whisper in his ear: “Stay just like this, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

He walks hastily to the bedroom, bare-arsed and cock waving merrily with every step, and returns with the half-empty bottle of lube they keep in the bedside drawer. Felix has done as he asked, still lying flat on his back with his arms half-trapped to his sides and his knees back toward his chest. Carver kisses each knee in turn as he settles back on the futon. A twist of the cap puts a fresh dollop of slick on his fingers, and he coats his cock with it leisurely, all traces of weariness burned away by the fire burning in his blood. Felix’s chest rises and falls with increasing rapidity as Carver lifts one of his legs up over his shoulder, opening him wide.

“Deep breath for me, baby,” Carver soothes, rubbing the rim of Felix’s hole with his cock. When Felix obeys, he presses forward and lets his body swallow him to the hilt.

“ _Oh_.” Felix’s eyes are half-closed, mouth parted so that Carver can see the slip of pink tongue inside. He works his cock slowly, relishing the velvet-soft feel of his insides as he bends and kisses him with shallow strokes.

“Good?”

“Mmf. Yeah.” He wriggles a little against the cushions, and arches back when Carver closes his teeth delicately around one peaked nipple. “Oh, god. Carv, please, I want to touch you.” For a moment his breathy mask falls away, and Carver can hear the pleading sincerity underneath. Slowing the rhythm of his hips, he tugs Felix upright just enough to free him of his shirt. Felix slides his fingers into Carver’s hair with a sigh of relief. “Perfect.”

Their fucking is slow and patient, perfect in the dim intimacy of an early morning spent hiding from the weather. Felix groans and grinds up against him as he gets close, clawing at his back and shoulders and muffling his cries into Carver’s sweat-damp neck, and Carver leaves a scattering of petal-pink marks all across his collarbones. When Felix’s whimpers grow higher and closer together, he braces one leg on the floor and snaps his hips in earnest, relishing their mingled breaths and the soft slap of skin over the storm pounding fruitlessly against the windows.

“You feel so good, baby,” he says into Felix’s ear, grinning to himself when Felix cries out and his arse tightens around Carver’s prick. “Yeah, that’s it, you take my cock so beautifully, you’re perfect. _Felix_.” He cups his boyfriend's face, the beard scratching slightly against his palm, and Felix’s eyes fly open. Half a moment later Carver can feel the convulsions starting: the rhythmic clutch of his internal muscles, the spasming clasp of his fingers digging into him. He fucks him through it, slow and steady as a metronome, and when Felix slumps back to the futon with a slack, smiling mouth, he allows himself a handful of deep, brutal strokes until he finds his own peak. He shudders softly and turns his face into Felix’s inner arm until the tremors pass.

Carver tries to pull out after, but Felix wraps his legs around his waist and makes a firm _no_ sort of noise, so he wedges himself against the back of the futon and buries his face in Felix’s sweaty, fragrant throat. He smells of Carver’s soap, a little bit—which he loves—but mostly he smells like sex and a little like… grapes? Carver brings his hand to his mouth, the one he’d been jacking Felix off with, and sniffs the palm lightly. And starts to giggle.

“Fee… did you buy flavored condoms?”

Beside his ear, there’s a puff of hot, amused air. “Maybe.” He snuggles closer, pulling Carver’s arm more fully around his waist. “Do you not like it?”

“I noticed it when I was sucking you off, but I can’t say it detracted from the experience. You were distracting me with that… delicate flower schtick.”

Felix goes quiet for a moment. “Was it… too much?”

“No, just unexpected.” Carver draws little mindless patterns on Felix’s shoulder, not quite tracing the lines of ink that paint his skin in muted jewel tones. “I… I know I have a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A kink, I guess.” He shifts, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to be—bossy, or dominant…”

“You’re not. Hush, love, you’ve done nothing I didn’t like. And I initiated it today, if you didn’t notice.”

“Of course I noticed.” Carver pinches his nipple lightly, earning a squeak in reaction. “Bit hard not to, you snuggling up to me all… all soft, and needy.” He shivers at the memory and promptly blushes when Felix gives a knowing hum. Felix threads his fingers through Carver’s hair, soothing.

“It was fun,” he says fondly. Then adds, “Next time I think I’d like _you_ to ride _me_.”

Carver’s dick gives an optimistic twitch against his thigh. Well. That answers that question.


End file.
